Our trip to JFK and then to Gatwick was smooth. As you recall, I had the boys and Tim, going through Atlanta, had the girls plus a few leftovers. The boys--recovering from the senior breakfast, graduation and grad night (Universal Studios)--were moving in a lovely stupor. Nick Marshall, on the other hand, showed signs of moxie, when he managed to trick the Delta agent with his 52 lbs. suitcase. Slyly he placed it on the scale with one wheel off. Who knew one wheel weighed two pounds? I caught it on camera.
Most slept. Excedrin PM seems to be the drug of choice this year. Props to three trivia players, Tyrone, Forrest and LV--playing under the non de plumes of Gallant, Dom, and Tito respectively--for battling the indefatigable Eric Barnard who played (and often won) all night long. Only a rubik's cube master could zone in for such a sustained time. Here's what Eric somehow knew: that George Eliot and George Sands were actually men, that "So it Goes" is the famous phrase from Slaughterhouse Five, and fission is sometimes a catylist. No one could beat the mysterious Tina, however, who was playing up in seat 5A. We were in the back of the plane, and no one had the guts to walk up and see what she looked like. Not even Mr. Moxie.
Possibly you heard that Rachel Morgan's suitcase didn't arrive from Atlanta. It was a fiasco, but everything's hunky dory now, and she stayed incredibly upbeat. Aaron Sawelson stepped off a curb ungracefully and twisted his ankle. He still hobbles but never complains.
Truly but wryly,
LV
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